Freedom's Blade
by alphaomegaman229
Summary: Jamal was born a slave and now must become an assassin and take the path once taken by his great grandfather, to fulfill his destiny he must learn that nothing is true and everything is permitted. WARNING: SPOILERS FOR FREEDOM CRY!
1. Chapter 1

**I lashed out at my slave owner in pure anger scree in and cussing in my native language. "You will stay here for 3 days," he spoke while holding up 3 fingers. "I will find a way out of this," I bellowed. "HA! You can try but your escape attempts will always end up the same," laughed my owner. My owner spat at my feet. I bellowed in rage once more only to have the door slammed at the sound of my voice. I pulled on the chains an to my surprise a chunk of concrete came lose in my hands. A huge grin spread across my face "tyd om my pad te verande" I mumbled under my breath. I bashed though the wooden door in rage. I smashed the head of one guard with the piece of concrete and choked the second one to death with my chains "sterf! nou!" I screamed " I stole the key from the guard and unlocked all the doors of the slaves. I stood on a stack of boxes. "Go my brothers! Fight for freedom!" I bellowed. I armed myself with a musket and gathered some ammo I ran through the prison stabbing and shooting any guards in my way. My army reached the prison doors, where burst through them chaos erupted. I heard a mix of hope songs and cussing both in English and in my native language. I tripped over a stick in the ground, in fact it was not a stick it was a hilt. I pulled on the hilt with such great force that it the blade that was attached killed an overseer. What I held was a machete. I stared blankly at the blade remembering that my father used to tell me stories of his grandfather and how he used to fight with a machete and a blunderbuss and captained a ship and freed slaves of all kinds. "he fought like the great warriors in Nubia" he would always tell me that. "one day you will free all slaves and this will all come to an end," he would say and then he would get whipped for talking. Through the crowded battlefield I saw my owner and chased him down. "this will be your final day! " I bellowed in a powerful voice. My owner turned and fired his double barrel shot gun. I had seen him use it to kill disloyal slaves. I was at a full sprint now. I tackled him and with great force. My owner turned and shot again but missed I sank my machete deep into his head. Blood poured down his face in rivers and dripped down his face and landed and collected into pools. I closed his eyes and spat on his face. I turned to see a white hooded figure fighting with a tomahawk. His skin was tan like the natives of this land before the whites arrived. A roar ripped through the crowd of liberated slaves. We had won. I turned to see a box in chains over in a warehouse where the owner keeps the slaves belongings. I picked up the shotgun that my owner carried and blasted the chains off and broke open the box and found the robes of my great grandfather just like my father had said. "someday you will accomplish what your ancestors could not,"**


	2. Chapter 2

**I dressed in the robes of my ancestor Adewalè, a sense of pride rushed through my veins as my ancestor had long ago when he had won victory and killed the governor of a land in the Caribbean sea. I gazed at my army of liberated slaves. "I can give you a chance to fight like this, join me my brothers, together we will ignite a revolution!" I bellowed. A roar went up through the crowd. Through the crowd I could see the same hooded figure I saw earlier moving toward me, it started as just a casual walk then emerged into a full on sprint,. I ran in fear he would take my lave and my dignity. I ran through the streets of Saint Louis, the my boots thudding against the cobblestone with each step the I felt a sudden weight come down on my shoulders very hard and bring me to the ground. "who do you think you are! Putting on those robes and claiming you are an assassin!" he said. "Grandfather... Adewalè... Assassin..." I choked on the words like it was painful to get out. The man had a hand on my throat and tomahawk in the other hand the man looked a little old. Like he was around 49 years old. The man glanced to his left and then back to his right, the back at me. "It is not safe here we must go and take you to Connor Kenway he will know what to do with you," he whispered to me as two to three heavily armored guards approached us. "sir you must return this slave to his master or you will be arrested by federal law enforcement" said the first guard. The man reached for his tomahawk And grabbed it by the hilt and jammed it into the chest of the first guard knocking him back. Then stabbed the first guard in the head with a blade that propelled from his wrist and used his tomahawk to decapitate the guard. The man faced me and I read his expression, your turn his expression read. I nodded and drew my machete and sliced the the throat of the second guard, more guards surrounded us. "Time for a bit of target practice eh?" he said while smiling dryly, I nodded and drew the shotgun and blasted the living souls out of two guards that didn't even have time to react. The mysterious man grabbed a set of flintlocks from his holsters and blasted the brains out of two guards and then reached for another set from the holster straps around his chest. The used the hilts to knock out two incoming guards then blast away two other guards, then he turned to me. "like I said it is not safe here"said the man**


	3. Chapter 3

"Connor Kenway lives on the other side of town," said the hooded man. The two of us were crammed into the back of a carriage. "Who are you? And what are the assassins?" I asked him. "The assassins have been around ever since the beginning of time, as our order has it the very first assassins escaped the wrath of the ancient peoples and started a rebellion against the ancient peoples, my grandfather tells me stories of the ancient peoples," he said. "I don't remember properly introducing my self, my name is James Kenway, grandson of Connor Kenway," he said smiling dryly. "And you are?" he questioned me. "Jamal Adewlale, at your service," I replied. The carrige shuttered to a stop in front of a manor that was painted a ghosty white with a red Spanish roof. We walked up to the door and knocked on it. A man greeted us with skin like wrinkled sandpaper. "Come in, there is much to disscuss" he said ushering us in. the man was wearing tan robes with the words Achillies Davenport engraved on the sides in gold leaf. "Young man would you like some tea?" he asked. "Yes please I haven't eaten or drank in a month," I replied. Connor went to the kitchen to brew us some tea. I looked over at James to see that he was holding a wooden box with the assassin symbol engraved on it. "you deserve these blades," he said taking the lid off the box to reveal a pair of leather wrist blades. I put on the blades and flexed my wrists and a blade propelled from each leather brace. Connor reentered the room with to cups of tea. Connor set one cup in front of me and then the other cup in front of James. James added sugar and buttermilk. When I saw the sugar come out of its container carried in a spoon I had bad memories of getting whipped and my father getting beheaded in front of my eyes. "no sugar," I said out loud unable to control my self. The two men stopped and stared at me. "Sorry, just having bad memories," I said. Connor had set down a plate of blueberry muffins in front of me. I tore the wrapper of one of them and stuffed it in my mouth. Connor was about to reach for another plate but then his grandson interrupted, "grandfather, that is enough food," said James. Connor muttered something in Mohican under his breath and sat down. "I remember when I was your age, Jamal is it? Ah, yes but no matter what I was determined to find my people and stopping anyone who got in my way," said Connor and grabbed a stick from the fireplace and started to swing it as if it were a fierce weapon of destruction. I inhaled one more muffin. Connor set down the stick and stared at me. "You are a direct descendant of the first assassins," said Connor. "Grandfather!" protested James. "no need James I have had many visions before your time that have told me that this would happen," said Connor. Suddenly the door was knocked down and a man with two guns in each hand and an axe sheathed across his back appeared in the space where the door used to be


End file.
